


Kegger

by darkangel0410, waffles_007



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: High School, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 00:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11862834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkangel0410/pseuds/darkangel0410, https://archiveofourown.org/users/waffles_007/pseuds/waffles_007
Summary: There's a kegger at Burr's after homecoming and Brent's geared up, hoping tofinallyget Misty to put out. Instead, being as drunk as he is, Brent manages to piss her off completely and gets slap to the face in the process.  Duncan's there to heckle Brent and his lack of smooth moves. Later, while searching for Misty to apologize (and hopefully get in her pants), he runs in to Duncan again--who's still quite ready to jab at Brent for his lack of manners towards the opposite sex.*The moment Duncan wraps his hand around his dick, mocking Brent, Brent’s jaw nearly drops—Duncan’s fucking hung. Brent eyeballs the thick outline between Duncan’s fingers and he’s just the wrong side of drunk that he can’t stop the noise he makes when Duncan shakes his wrist, taunting Brent.“Oh fuck—” Brent lets the words slip out before he can realize what he’s said and he tries to cover with another rude comment. “I bet you don’t even know what to do with a dick like that.”Duncan smirks. “Trust me. I know what to do with it.”“I don’t think you do.” Brent says it as a challenge.Duncan smells the alcohol on Brent’s breath as he’s leaning in; Brent’s close, real close. “I can make you scream.”





	Kegger

**Author's Note:**

> Brief mentions of M/F & mentions of Burr, Sharpy, Laddy, and Hoss.
> 
> Lyrics are from 'The Humpty Dance' by Digital Underground.

“Hey, Seabs—Kegger at Burr’s place Saturday night after Homecoming—his parents are out of town.”

“Oh yeah?” Brent lifts the weight bar back in to its holder, sitting up before he continues. “Gonna be pussy there to go with the beer?” _Or dick?_ Brent keeps the last part to himself. He’s not exactly _in_ but then again, he’s not exactly _out_ either: at least not to more than a handful of really close friends. It’s more that as much as Brent loves pussy—and he _loves_ pussy—he also loves the feel of a big fat cock in his ass every once in a while.

“Fuck, yeah! What’s a kegger without pussy?”

“I’m fucking there, dude.” Brent wipes down the weight bench and heads back off to the locker room to hit the showers.

Brent tilts his head back, lets the hot water stream down through his hair, over tight muscles, feeling them starting to relax under the warm spray. Homecoming: he knows he’s gonna be Homecoming King—he’s the star qb of the football team, and the Captain, so there’s really no question. And the chick that’s slated to be Homecoming Queen? She’s a hot piece of ass Brent’s been wanting to hit since sophomore year. He closes his eyes, lets the water do its thing as his hand wanders slowly down, fingers trailing through the sparse hair that peppers across his chest, down over his abs, down to his cock, already half hard from thinking about getting with Misty. Those firm, perky tits, tanned skin? Brent bets she’s tight too: rumor is she’s still a virgin and Brent wants to the one to pop her cherry. His hand tightens around his dick as he imagines spreading her legs, lining up, and slipping right in to that tight hot wetness, being the first one there, the only one. It’s not long before he’s biting his lip and biting back a moan as he comes.

~*~

“Hey Misty.” Brent slides up beside the Homecoming Queen, slips his arm around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder. “You comin’ to Burr’s kegger?” He nuzzles his nose in behind her ear and gets a small squeal and a few half-hearted slaps from Misty.

“Breeent…” She whines his name in mock exasperation. “Quit it!”

“C’mon, babe. It’s all in good fun.” Brent grins at her, all teeth and sparkling eyes. “You comin’ or what? We’re ditching this dance soon.”

Misty turns here head, looks at Brent’s hopeful face and giggles. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

Brent reaches out for a high-five.

~*~

Misty breaks off with a group of her friends shortly after they get to Burr’s party, waving at Brent, telling him to come find her later. Brent ends up in the kitchen with Burr, Sharpy, Hoss, and a couple of other guys from the team, chugging down beers and shooting the shit.

“Finally got Misty to go out with you, huh, Brent?” Burr slaps Brent on the back after watching their exchange.

“Eh, not sure about going out with her, but I’m gonna get fucking laid tonight.” Brent makes a pretty obscene gesture, thrusting his hips, and laughs.

“You think so?” Sharpy leans in close to Brent. “You know she’s a cock tease—won’t go past third base. No one’s ever gotten her further.”

Brent rolls his eyes. “That’s ‘cause she’s never had this dick before.” He grabs his crotch and circles his hips. “None of you pussies know how to fuck.”

The conversation completely derails from there as the guys keep pounding down beer after beer and it’s not long before Brent’s got a pretty good buzz going on and someone turns up the music. Brent and his friends spill in to the living room, laughing and trying to keep up with the words as the music blasts out of the speakers.

“ _I drink up all the Hennessey ya got on ya shelf, so just let me introduce myself. My name is Humpty, pronounced with an ‘Umpty’”_

Brent rubs up against Misty when he finds her in a circle gossiping with her friends. “ _Yo, ladies, oh how I like to hump thee_.” Brent grinds his hips against Misty and laughs, drunk and loud.

“Ugh, Brent—how drunk are you?” Misty lightly shoves Brent away and goes back to talking with her friends.

“ _I’ll eat up all your crackers and your licorice. Hey, yo, fat girl, c’mere—are ya ticklish?_ ” Brent keeps going, reciting the lyrics, reaching out to wiggle his fingers in to Misty’s ribs.

“What?!” Misty turns and gives Brent a good hard open-handed slap across the cheek. “Fuck off, Brent. Rude!”

“Ow, Jesus, Misty. It’s just the words! I’m only kidding.” Brent tries to apologize while rubbing his cheek. Misty shoves past him, glaring over her shoulder as he makes her way out in to the hallway.

“That was smooth…”

Brent turns when he hears the monotone, sarcastic comment coming from behind him. “Oh fuck off…” Brent makes a face at…Duncan? He thinks that’s the kids name, but he’s sure it’s that weird metal guy from shop.

“You really know how to impress the ladies, huh?” Duncan laughs, low and quiet. “That work for you?”

“Like you could do any better.” Brent snaps back: he’s drunk and really doesn’t need to be taking shit from anyone, let alone the loner from shop. “I’d like to see you try to get someone as hot as Misty. She wouldn’t even give you the time of day.”

Duncan raises an eyebrow. “She’s not my type.” He comments dryly.

“Oh yeah?” Brent presses. “Then what is your type?”

Duncan doesn’t answer.

“Probably that but—” Brent’s cut off as Duncan shoulders past him; he’s pretty sure he hears Duncan calling him a dick on the way by. Whatever.

~*~

He’s back in the kitchen with the guys, too many beers in now that he’s lost count and at this point, Brent’s way past buzzed and pretty far in to drunk.

“Then she slapped me! What the _fuck_? All I did was try to tickle her.” Brent laments, taking a long drink from his beer.

“And you called her fat. Way to go, Biscuit.” Burr points out, laughing. “That’s a sure way to get in her pants.”

“Fuck you. Those are the lyrics—I wasn’t calling _her_ fat.” Brent gives Burr the finger and finishes off his beer. “I’m so fucking horny.” He adds.

“Go apologize to her, maybe she’ll let you fucker her if you say you’re sorry.” Sharpy suggests. “Couldn’t hurt.”

~*~

Brent wanders out on to the deck, scanning the yard for Misty in case she’d come outside for some fresh air. He’s leaning out over the railing hollering for Misty when a voice beside him makes him jump.

“So, now you’re yelling at her? You are a smooth fucker, aren’t you?” Duncan’s voice is wry and his smile mocking.

“Mind your own fucking business.” Brent waves Duncan off with a dismissive gesture.

Duncan laughs. “You really think you’re gonna get laid, don’t you?”

Brent turns so he’s facing Duncan, swaying little before pointing his finger right in Duncan’s face. “I can get whatever pussy I want. I’m the fucking star quarterback.” Brent grabs his crotch like he had in the kitchen. “I got girls lining up for this dick.”

“What?” Duncan mumbles as he takes another hit off his joint. “To kick it?”

“Fuck. You.” Brent drunkenly shoves Duncan—not hard, but enough that it makes him throw himself off balance and he has to catch himself on the railing to keep upright.

“You couldn’t even get it up right now, I bet. Good job, lady killer.”

“I could.” Brent protests belligerently, he’s not _that_ drunk. “Like you’d do any better, you stoned fuck.”

Duncan outright laughs at that. “Weed doesn’t mess with your dick, jackass.” Duncan rolls his eyes as if Brent’s the dumbest fuck ever. “This beaut has no problems—I can assure you.” Duncan mimics Brent and grabs at his crotch.

The moment Duncan wraps his hand around his dick, mocking Brent, Brent’s jaw nearly drops—Duncan’s fucking hung. Brent eyeballs the thick outline between Duncan’s fingers and he’s just the wrong side of drunk that he can’t stop the noise he makes when Duncan shakes his wrist, taunting Brent.

“Oh fuck—” Brent lets the words slip out before he can realize what he’s said and he tries to cover with another rude comment. “I bet you don’t even know what to do with a dick like that.”

Duncan smirks. “Trust me. I know what to do with it.”

Duncan shakes his wrist again and Brent doesn’t miss the fact that Duncan’s slowly getting hard, his cock thickening even more under his loose dress pants. Brent takes a step closer. “I don’t think you do.” He says it as a challenge.

Duncan smells the alcohol on Brent’s breath as he’s leaning in; Brent’s close, real close. “I can make you scream.”

Brent swallows hard, licks his lips—his tongue feels swollen, thick in his mouth as he replies. “I’d like to see you try. I bet you couldn’t even—”

He’s cut off as Duncan closes the distance between them by wrapping his fingers into Brent’s dress shirt and pulling him down hard till their lips are practically brushing against one another as Duncan speaks. “I will.”

They stare at each other for just a moment longer, their breath coming in short heated puffs. The tension between them is almost palpable and they’ve both blocked out the surrounding noise of the party; the laughter and loud music from inside fading as they stand, barely any room between the two of them, neither one moving.

Then it’s broken—the tension gone as they crush their mouths together, teeth clacking as it’s a heated rush to dominate the kiss, neither one wanting to submit. Brent’s hands find Duncan’s head, fingers threading in to Duncan’s long auburn curls, pulling and twisting. Duncan’s hands wrap around Brent’s hips, fingertips digging in hard enough to bruise as Duncan pulls Brent against him, grinding his now fully hard cock against Brent’s crotch.

Brent slips his tongue in to Duncan’s mouth, feels Duncan doing the same as he moans, low and guttural when he feels Duncan’s hips moving against his own.

“Fuck—” Duncan curses in to the kiss, draws it out as his teeth find Brent’s lower lip and he bites down, sucking it in to his mouth.

As they kiss, Duncan’s slowly pushing Brent towards the far corner of the deck, to the small section that wraps around the side of the house, the section that’s completely out of the soft glow of the deck light. He breaks the kiss, turns Brent so Brent’s hips press up against the waist high railing. “We doing this?”

Brent hisses out a ‘yes’ and rummages in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a small packet of lube and shoving it back in to Duncan’s hand along with a condom.

“Heh—what’re you, a boy scout? So prepared.” Duncan snickers as his hands work at the button and hook of his dress pants.

“I was getting laid either way tonight.” Brent says between short breaths; his hands are busy pushing his pants and boxers down, spreading his legs as wide as they’ll go before leaning down and resting his forearms on the railing. “Hurry up.”

Duncan gives Brent’s ass a solid slap when Brent urges Duncan on. “Fuck you—you’re the one getting fucked. Simmer down.” The slap only makes Brent groan and the noise goes right to Duncan’s cock, making him even harder than he had been before.

Duncan rips in to the packet of lube, covers his fingers and doesn’t waste any more time in dragging them down the cleft of Brent’s ass, working his middle finger in without any warning. He feels Brent’s ass tighten around him for just a moment before slowly relaxing and that’s when Duncan starts the process of getting Brent ready.

Duncan’s hands, and fingers, are rough—he’s the shop kid, always down there working away on random projects, used to handling wood so he’s developed callouses that drag and feel hard to Brent. It’s fucking great.

Duncan adds a second finger when Brent starts pushing back, and a third when Brent start panting out, begging him to do so. Brent’s loose and ready and Duncan gives his own cock a few solid strokes before unrolling the condom down over his thick shaft. “Gonna make you _scream_.” He mumbles in to Brent’s ear as he’s lining up his swollen cockhead and starting to push in.

The stretch—God, the _stretch_ —Brent sucks in his breath when he feels Duncan pushing against him, feels Duncan’s cockhead breaching him and it hurts, just a little.

“Sure you can take it?” Duncan says mockingly in to Brent’s ear, punctuating his words with a sharp bite on the lobe.

Brent bites his lip and nods, bracing himself against the railing when the head slips in and the real thickness of Duncan’s cock makes itself known. “I’m fine.” He manages to grind out around a gasp.

“You sure?” Duncan pushes in a little more and closes his eyes for just a second—Brent’s ass is still so fucking tight, even after being fingered. “You’re pretty tight.”

“Just—fuck—just give me a second.”

“I’m not gonna think you’re a pussy if you can’t take it.” Duncan knows he’s big, thick—there’s been a couple times he’s had to settle for a blow job ‘cause some guy just couldn’t take it.

“I’m not a pussy—I just need a second.” Brent snaps, bringing his head down to rest on his hands for a moment. He closes his eyes, feels the stretch and the burn and he breathes in deep, tries to relax. Imagines how good it’s going to feel when Duncan’s all the way in, pressed against him, Duncan’s balls resting in the crook of his thighs.

It takes another minute, Duncan stilling his hips as he watches Brent taking deep breath after deep breath, but he feels Brent start to relax, feels his cock slip in a little more as Brent loosens around his dick.

“Move.” Brent finally whispers.

Duncan presses further, bit by bit, only going in as far as Brent allows and waiting as he slowly takes more and more. It takes a few more moments until Duncan’s thighs press up against the back of Brent’s legs, all the way in, and Duncan wishes there was a little bit of light just so he could see Brent’s ass stretched out wide around his thick cock. He takes a second and digs in his pants pocket, takes out his lighter and flicks it till the flame sparks. _Fuck_. It’s better than he imagined—Brent’s thick muscular ass spread around his cock.

“What the fuck are you doing back there?” Brent looks back over his shoulder. “If you’re fucking lighting a joint—”

“I’m not.” Duncan stuffs his lighter back in to his pocket.

“Just fuck me. _Jesus_.” Brent complains, pushing back in to Duncan’s thighs, urging him to move.

Duncan pinches his fingers in to the meat of Brent’s thigh making Brent yelp before pulling his cock out till the head pulls against Brent’s rim. “Ready?”

“Christ, yes, you slow fucker.” Brent reaches blindly behind him, fingers searching out Duncan’s hips so he can pull him back in.

Duncan chuckles and snaps his hips hard, sinking back in to the hilt.

Brent groans out a long dragging ‘yes’.

Duncan starts a pretty hard and fast pace, thrusting his cock in to Brent’s ass, using his hands to spread Brent’s cheeks so he can really get in there deep.

Brent’s grunting and groaning and he feels like he’s being split open on Duncan’s thick cock and it feels better than any fuck he’s ever had. Fuck, it feels better than any fuck he’s ever given.

Duncan pushes in, circles his hips, making his cock rub against Brent’s prostate over and over as he moves. He sees Brent gripping the railing tight, his forearms shaking as Duncan just keeps moving. “Gonna scream?” Duncan almost purrs the words when he speaks.

Brent only lets out a broken moan, it’s loud, but Duncan thinks he can make Brent even louder.

Duncan lets his hands drop from where they’re spreading Brent’s ass and he reaches around, wrapping calloused fingers around Brent’s cock as he slides the index finger of his other hand down Brent’s crease.

His hand works along Brent’s cock, long strokes, fingers squeezing on the down stroke, thumb slipping over the head on the way up. Duncan’s other finger plays at Brent’s rim, tracing the stretched entryway as his cock slides in and out. He presses just a little as his cock sinks in and Brent lets out another loud moan. “Gonna make you _scream_.”

Brent’s too far gone on Duncan’s cock to bother denying it at this point: Duncan’s hand is tight on his dick, spreading pre-come so his heads shiny and slick and Duncan’s finger pressing on his rim is driving him nuts. It’s all almost overwhelming and all Brent knows is that he wants more.

“Fuck… _Fuck_!” Brent’s almost yelling as Duncan drives his cock in deep but it changes to an all-out should when on the next thrust of his hips, Duncan slides his index finger in alongside his cock.

“Fuck, Duncan!” Brent wails at the sensation of both Duncan’s thick fat cock and his rough calloused finger sliding in his ass and he bucks when Duncan twists his wrist around his cock, spilling hot and wet all over Duncan’s fist.

Duncan feels Brent tighten hard around his dick and finger, feels Brent’s come warm and messy and slick along his fingers and he thrusts two more times, closing his eyes when his dick twitches and spills in Brent’s ass.

Duncan leans forward, rests his forehead along the back of Brent’s dress shirt, tries to catch his breath as he lets his hand drop from Brent’s cock and lets his dick slip from Brent’s ass.

“Fuck—that was…” Brent says between deep breaths.

“…intense.” Duncan finishes Brent’s thought, mumbling in to Brent’s shirt. He eventually pulls back, pulling the condom off and tying it off before tossing it down in to the bushes at the base of the deck.

“Burr’s gonna be so pissed when he finds that.” Brent comments, but he’s laughing.

Duncan tucks himself back in to his dress pants, pulls a joint out of a crumpled cigarette pack and sparks it up, the flame from the lighter throwing an orange glow for just a moment around Duncan’s face. Duncan shrugs. “Serves him right—he had shitty beer.”

Brent pulls his boxers and pants back up, fumbles with the button for a second before finally getting his pants fastened up. “So, um…” He’s not really sure what happens now; he’s still the star qb of the football team and Duncan’s still the weird metal kid from shop.

“See you around, I guess.” Duncan takes a drag from the joint and turns to lean against the railing, effectively dismissing Brent by turning his back.

“Sure, yeah, see ya.” Brent gives Duncan’s foot a little kick on the way by, slipping in to the kitchen and grabbing a beer before blending back in to the crowd of kids as he finds his friends.

~*~

It’s weird seeing Duncan at school on Monday; not overly weird—Brent’s had to go to school with hook-ups before and at least Duncan’s not hanging all over him—but Brent can’t help remembering the way Duncan’s thick cock felt inside him and fuck if he didn’t want to feel it again.

He stayed away from Duncan for the rest of the week, flirted with Misty and managed to get her to put out in the back of his truck, nothing major, just a blow job, but more than he got from her at that last party. It distracts him from Duncan for a while, and all he’s thinking about when Saturday rolls around is getting Misty upstairs in Jonny’s parents room and finally getting his dick wet in her.

Brent gets to Jonny’s early to pre-game, he splits a 12 pack of PBR with Jonny while they set up the keg on the back deck, then raids the liquor cabinet when Sharpy shows up with Burr and Laddy, and the five of them polish off a bottle of vodka before everyone else shows up.

A lot of guys bring their own beer and even some liquor and by the time it’s full dark out, Brent’s really drunk, flirting with all the girls there, waiting for Misty to show up.

She’s still not there by ten and Brent’s starting to get pissed about the whole thing; he could have already fucked any one of the chicks here and instead he’s waiting for her ass to show up.

He’s coming out of the upstairs bathroom when he runs in to Duncan, wearing a Metallica t-shirt and a pair of jeans with a plaid flannel tied around his waist. Brent’s dick takes an immediate interest in the proceedings, already half-hard from just remembering how well Duncan fucked him last time they were at a party together.

“Seabrook.” Duncan says when he sees Brent half stumble out of the bathroom. He looks good, Duncan’s forced to admit—he’s in jeans and one of those obnoxious ‘No Fear’ shirts that Duncan can’t stand but that half the football team all seems to wear.

“Keith.”

Brent says disdainfully, but Duncan sees the way Brent’s eyes drop to focus on his crotch and suddenly, the night’s looking a lot better than it had been a few minutes ago. Duncan eyes him for a long second, debating if he should try to beat around the bush before deciding to get straight to the point. “You want to go fool around?” He cocks his head in the direction of Jonny’s parents room.

Brent looks put out for a second before he shrugs and goes for casual. “Sure, it’s not like I got anything better to fucking do tonight.”

Brent’s licking his lips though and he immediately gets in to Duncan’s space. Duncan’s not fooled by the causal act at all. Not even for a moment.

 


End file.
